


Of Perps and Proposals

by StrictlyChaotic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- future, Deputy Derek Hale, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5928256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyChaotic/pseuds/StrictlyChaotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deputies Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski are on another uneventful stakeout until a game suggestion, a quick footed suspect, and a proposal enter the scene.<br/>AKA The time Fuck/Marry/Kill takes an interesting turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Perps and Proposals

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Updated picture link at the end. I hope this one works *fingers crossed*.

Derek and Stiles sit in an unmarked squad car on a routine stakeout hoping to catch the person who has been knocking over various warehouses around town.By the fourth uneventful hour, they’ve played nearly every game known to man in order to keep some semblance of sanity, when the speaker squawks.

“What about ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’ because you guys are killing me with your boredom. By the way, your push button is broken which means I’ve heard everything. I need to go bleach my ears after hearing Stiles’ enthusiastic rendition of ‘Hello’.” Scott’s voice echoes through the radio.

Stiles huffs at that, but what else do they have but time and sore asses, for the most unremarkable reasons, too. Shame.

“Alright how about....”  Derek closes his eyes as he attempts to drum up some names, fingers tapping thoughtfully on his thigh before opening his eyes, catching his reflection in the side mirror and smirking. “Scott, Parrish, and Me.”

Stiles snorts and turns so he’s facing Derek, “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Derek shrugs up a shoulder and nods his head, urging Stiles on. 

Stiles squints his eyes and nibbles on his lip as he mulls it over. Derek sighs, “This isn’t Jeopardy, Stiles.”

Stiles’ squint becomes a half-hearted glare. “Fine. Fuck Scott. No seriously, fuck you, bro. My singing is on point. Angels wept.” Stiles screeches into the radio.

“They’re not the only ones who wept. Just so you know I’m flipping you off so hard right now. Also the suspect in question was spotted in your vicinity. ETA on your location is 5 minutes.” Scott responds.

“Roger. Eyes wide open. Ok so on to Parrish. Hmmm. Kill Parrish mostly because I’m not even sure if that’s possible. Would he just come for himself then? You know because of the whole,” Stiles gestures to his body, mimicking being engulfed in flames, “Hellhound situation?”

Scott chokes out a laugh while Derek’s glare becomes contemplative before movement coming from the warehouse has him bounding out of the car with one hand on his walkie.

“Perp on scene. Pursuing on foot.”

Stiles springs out of the car like a jack-in-the-box and attempts to match Derek’s stride. Derek puts more power into his run and leaps at the suspect, tackling him squarely around the legs. Stiles is on him in a blink of an eye, securing the cuffs around his wrists as he huffs out the Miranda rights. Derek uprights the suspect while Stiles pats him down, finding wads of cash in places the sun would quit if it had to touch.

“Dude, really? Do you know where these bills have been?! You know what, nevermind.” Stiles’ face scrunches in disgust as he places the thief in the back of the car.

Derek and Stiles get back in the car and head towards the station. Once the suspect has been booked and processed they make way to their office, staring down a long night of paperwork and takeout ahead of them.

Partway through filing the report, or rather glaring at the screen for 5 minutes, Stiles bolts upright. 

“We never finished the game.”

Derek spares him a half questioning look over the top of his computer, “What are you talking about?”

Stiles rolls his chair around his desk and next to Derek, lightly grasping his arm along with his full attention.

“I’d marry you.” Stiles says on a soft breath. “But the real question is,” Stiles gracelessly plops to the ground on one knee while brandishing a box in his hand, “Derek Hale, will _you_ marry _me_?”

Derek looks like he’s caught in a crossfire without any protection, but his expression quickly melts away to that of fondness and love. “Stiles, what?”

Stiles finagles the box open to display a tungsten ring with two triskeles intertwined by an infinity symbol. “I said - _Will. You. Marry. Me._  Thought werewolf hearing was supposed to be exemplary.” Stiles nervously snarks, box wavering slightly in his hand from anxious excitement. 

Derek’s eyes flick from Stiles’ openly loving whiskey-kissed eyes to the ring. An exact replica of his father’s own band. But it couldn’t be - Stiles wouldn’t even have known -

“Cora,” Stiles says, searching Derek’s eyes, which begin to redden and glisten. “She mentioned when you were kids, your dad would sit you on his lap and tell you the tales of the great Weres of the past, and you’d absentmindedly grab his hand and spin the ring around his finger. She said he’d tell you the meaning behind the symbols on it at least twice a week. Said it’s a reminder that no matter what position you fell to in life, you will always be loved and connected. To each other. Forever.”

Stiles gently strokes away the tears that start to roll freely down Derek’s cheek before disappearing into his scruff. Derek pulls the ring from the box, thumb stroking reverently over the symbols before his eyes bore through Stiles’. 

“Stiles I - this means so much and I just...” Stiles gasps as he’s abruptly plucked from the floor and onto Derek’s lap, lips fervently translating the emotions pouring out of him. Stiles’ hands wrap around Derek’s neck, Derek’s tenderly cup either side of his face as he pulls back just enough to breathe, “I love you.”

Stiles chokes out a watery chuckle as he swoops forward for a quick, but heated kiss, “I love you, too. So much. Just for the record though... that’s a yes, right?”

Derek rolls his eyes and laughs as his fingers stroke the fine hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck, “Yes.” 

They’re a blur of limbs as their declarations of love become more animated and less safe for work. Derek bites off half a moan as Stiles starts to grind down against him when there’s a knock on the door accompanied by an exaggerated cough. They barely pull away from each other with slight mortification etched on their faces.

“I assume this means it’s safe to let O’Reilly out of the cell now?” The Sheriff tries to avert his gaze anywhere but the mess of limbs in front of him. 

Stiles’ startled gaze becomes sheepish as he disentangles himself from Derek, hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, the rookie did well. Make sure he gets a nice bonus in his check this week because Derek took him down pretty hard.”

Derek’s confusion lasts for all of a second before he stands, putting two and two together. “Rookie? Are you kidding me?! Did you seriously get a rookie to pretend to be a perp -”

“Oh come on, Der. His initiation to the force looks like a pile of puppies compared to mine. Still can’t look at Deputy Striker in the eye and it’s been 5 years. Plus, he was more like a ring bearer.” 

Derek blinks hard. “So Scott suggesting...This was all planned.”

Stiles smirks and clasps his hands in front of himself, “Guilty as charged, Officer. Cuff me and stuff m-”

“OKAY! Okay!” The Sheriff yells as he scrambles for the door. “Both of your shifts are well over. I suggest you move this,” he waves his hands towards the disheveled mess in front of him, “to a more appropriate place.”

Before hightailing it out the door, he pulls Derek in for a tight embrace, “I’m so damn glad to finally say this: Welcome to the family, son.”

Stiles beams at the both of them, the two loves of his life. He gives his dad a hug before he leaves then turns towards Derek, twining their fingers together, thumb brushing over the ring.

“Let’s go home, FiancéWolf.”

Derek snorts. “No. Just...no, Stiles.”

“Ehhh, I’ll win you over.” Stiles mumbles as he flicks off the lights and locks the door behind him.

Derek gently presses Stiles back against the door and captures his lips in his own. 

“You already did.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need someone to contact a jeweler, make this ring happen and engage the hell out of me.
> 
> For those wondering what Stiles' initiation was: It involved him being called to a scene of a rowdy party that had gotten a bit out of control. When he arrived, he was met with a room full of women thinking he was the stripper. No matter what he said, the ladies didn't believe him. Deputy Striker, his partner and supervisor at the time, stepped in promising to handle it, then proceeding to gyrate and remove layers. Stiles was mortified, rooted to the spot. He turned to leave only to see his father standing at the entrance, holding the boombox and laughing hysterically.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it! :D
> 
> Come chat with me about all things Sterek on my tumblr: [Strictly-Chaotic](http://strictly-chaotic.tumblr.com).


End file.
